


BUTTSEX!

by Elliewood



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elliewood/pseuds/Elliewood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim decides it's time to let Spock go where no man has gone before. Now if he can only figure out how.</p><p>OR:</p><p>Four times that Jim and Spock failed at buttsex and one time they didn't.</p><p>OR:</p><p>Proof that not all one-word fic titles are pretentious.</p><p>AND:</p><p>Another repost, this one from September 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BUTTSEX!

**_Prelude_ **

**_2260.74_ **

 

"Spock, my friend, Friday is your lucky day.  Or, should I say,  _night_."

Commander Spock of the USS  _Enterprise_  gazed with curiosity across the breakfast table at his commanding officer, who at that moment was staring into his eyes and wiggling his eyebrows in a highly suggestive manner.  Mindful that the nature of their relationship was not as yet public knowledge, Spock glanced about the mess hall to ascertain that they were not being watched, and therefore that the captain's display of what he surmised was deliberate flirtatiousness would remain unobserved by all but himself.

"Captain, if by 'Friday,' you are referring to stardate 2260.77, then I must inquire as to the significance of that particular date."

Jim Kirk, captain of the  _Enterprise_  and widely acknowledged intergalactic hero, leaned toward his first officer across the table and lowered his voice to a dramatic near-whisper.  "That's the night you and I are going to have... _buttsex."_

Spock raised an eyebrow as he cut into a piece of melon.  "Indeed."

Jim sipped his coffee, eyebrows still wagging.  "Hells yeah.  Got it all planned out.  Gotta do this right because it, you know--" he leaned in closer, confidingly -- "it's my first time."

Spock chewed his melon thoughtfully before responding.  "By which I assume you mean, you have not previously engaged in sexual relations involving anal penetration."

"You bet your ass," Jim replied, sitting back and snickering at his own joke.  A pity, thought Spock; it was not his best attempt at humor -- singularly puerile and not particularly clever.  "Or, rather,  _my_  ass."

"Please clarify."

Jim's eyes widened under an incredulous furrowing of his brow.  "Spock, don't you get it?  I'm gonna bottom for you!  You get to have this sweet piece of tail!"  

"Captain, I believed my access to your 'tail' had already been granted.  Did I misunderstand the nature of our relationship?"

"No, baby, not at all.  But I'm talking about taking things to the next  _level_  here.  You know,  _real--"_ he gestured with airquotes "--sex!"  

"So what we have already engaged in is not 'real' sexual intercourse?"

Jim sighed in exasperation; Spock obviously was going to make his pronouncement as unromantic as possible.  He slurped his coffee petulantly.

"Look, if you're not interested..."

"On the contrary, I am very interested.  However, I fear that your excitement over this...addition to our repertoire indicates a certain level of dissatisfaction with our current activities."

"No, come on, I'm not dissatisfied, I just want to...to make you happy.  I thought you'd like fucking my ass, that's all."  

Spock was not oblivious to the hint of hurt in Jim's tone.  He sought to make amends.

"It is not without its appeal.  I should most willingly participate."

Jim smiled and set his coffee down, his sunny mood apparently restored by Spock's assent.  "Okay then, it's a date.  Friday, 2100 hours, my quarters.  And I'm warning you: prepare to be  _destroyed._ It will be totally awesome.  You will  _never_  be the same."

Spock lifted one corner of his mouth in a fractional smile as he reached for his tea.  "I am certain you are correct on that score."

  

**_Act 1_ **

**_2260.77_ **

 

Spock awoke that morning with a most distinct feeling of anticipation.  Not so much toward the impending act itself, which filled him with only a little curiosity (his education in the sexual practices of multiple humanoid species being quite a bit more thorough than Jim would ever suspect), but rather for the opportunity to deepen their still relatively new relationship and strengthen their nascent bond.  

Jim, on the other hand, seemed to be of the opinion that it was indeed the impending act itself that was of paramount importance, as Spock unhappily deduced later that day.

They were on the bridge in the waning hours of alpha shift.  Jim's behavior had become increasingly aberrant as the day had progressed, to the point that the rest of the bridge crew were starting to cast curious glances in the captain's direction.  Spock could only surmise that it was his lover's eagerness for the evening's coming festivities that was causing him to be so...spontaneous.  What else could explain his cavalier attitude toward:

\--Starfleet command ("Admiral, we'll get there when we get there, and not a second before...Emergency?  Let me tell you, Admiral, I have a lot of emergencies I need to deal with, the least of which is yours...Huh?  What's that?  I can't hear you over the sound of your signal breaking up... _Nyota, end transmission, this motard is totally pissing me off!"_  [uttered in a stage whisper perfectly audible to Admiral Nogura and whoever else might have been within 50 meters of said admiral's communications console]);

\--his ever-suffering navigator ("Chekov, what the  _hell_ , man!  Why're you taking us to Canopus on  _this_  course, it's so  _boring_!  Like, nothing but star, star, binary star, star...Seriously , I mean,  _I spy with my little eye, something that begins with S_...Gee, wonder what the fuck  _that_  could be?  Can't you find like a black hole or some subspace anomaly or something that we can  _explore_?  Because I thought we were explorers!" [that last earning him a dirty look from Scotty]);

\--and, distressingly, his first officer as well?

For, as the shift clicked to a close, Jim stretched in his chair, swiveled it around to face the communication station, and smirked knowingly, like a cat that just ate a very fat, tasty canary and looked hella cute doing it too.

"Nyota, guess what I've got going on this evening."

Nyota Uhura smiled affectionately and batted her eyelashes at him in return. "I have no idea, Jim.  What  _do_  you have planned?" she inquired, humoring him. 

Jim's smirk widened into a grin.  "I'm...having... _BUTTSEX!"_

Spock felt the blood drain from his face despite his attempts to control the autonomic vasovagal response.  The rest of the bridge crew fell completely silent, the random beeps and whistles of the ship's instrumentation being the only audible sounds for several seconds.  Chekov openly gawped at Jim in amazement; Uhura sat down hard on her chair as her knees buckled, her beautiful eyes wide with shock.  Only Sulu managed to keep from turning and staring at the captain, by focusing intently on the console before him and remembering just who it was who saved his life as they fell thousands of meters toward the surface of Vulcan (because if you can't thank a guy by pretending not to notice when he's gone off his fucking rocker, you're not worth shit in Sulu's book).   

Jim was happily, deliriously oblivious to the effect his pronouncement had on his shipmates.  He continued (to Spock's chagrin), "And  _guess_  who I'm having it with?!"

Nyota's voice was faint.  "I...I have no idea."

"Then allow me to enlighten you.  The lucky son of a bitch is..."

And to Spock's utter dismay, the captain swiveled his chair 27.3 degrees clockwise to face his station and fix him with a worshipful smile.

Every pair of eyes on the bridge swiveled toward Spock as well.  

He could feel the muscles of his face moving without his volition into what he feared was an expression of sheer horror, the eyebrows crawling upward into his bangs, his forehead furrowing, his mouth and upper respiratory tract preparing to emit a most un-Vulcan-like shriek.  Luckily (or not), his captain chose just that moment to rise up out of his chair and lurch reverently toward his secret boyfriend.  Spock knew he had to act promptly.

"Lieutenant, comm Dr. McCoy and request his immediate presence on the bridge.  The captain is unwell."

Uhura hurried to comply just as Jim arrived at the object of his affection, his adoring face beaming all the love Spock could ever hope to deserve, if only it were offered to him at any time other than just at that moment.

Jim spoke:  "Mr. Spock, my first officer, my  _best_  science officer, and love of my life...would you do me the great honor of popping my ass cherry tonight?"

And fainted dead away, the remarkable blue eyes rolling downward ( _strange_ , thought Spock,  _should it not be upward?_ ) in their sockets as he collapsed to the deck.

Spock didn't even try to catch him.

Bones arrived on the bridge a few moments later to find the bridge crew gathered uncertainly around the limp form of his best friend and a strange silence pervading the room.  Everyone seemed to be very deliberately  _not_  looking at Spock.

He dropped to his knees and gave the unconscious captain a once-over with his scanner.  "Christ," he frowned.  "Extreme hypoglycemia...pronounced ketoacidosis...When was the last time he had something to eat?"

It occurred to Spock at that moment that he had in fact not observed the captain eating solid food since before the morning of his announcement concerning the evidently now no-longer-upcoming anal sexcapade.

McCoy injected the contents of two hypos into the captain's neck in rapid succession, them commed Sickbay for a stretcher.  "Blood glucose and pH levels that low result in acute psychosis.  Did he say or do anything out of character before he passed out?"

Sighs of relief were heard all around as the members of the bridge crew gratefully accepted the option to interpret the captain's display of besottedness as the ravings of a fuel-starved brain.  Spock was gratified to receive their looks of pity even as he acknowledged to himself that he in no way actually merited them.  

"I'll take that as a yes.  Mr. Spock, you'll have to take over for the next 24 hours.  I'm putting the captain on medical leave until we get his blood glucose level stabilized.  Come by Sickbay later for a full report."  Bones was nothing if not efficient.

Spock managed to nod his acquiescence.

 

***

 

Later that night, Spock found Jim awake and propped up on a biobed, a tray of food in front of him, a bag of clear fluid draining into a line in his arm, and an expression of sheepish irritation (if that could be considered a viable combination) on his face.  

McCoy's expression, on the other hand, was 100% irritation.  "What the hell were you  _thinking_?"

Jim avoided his gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.  "I was just gonna, you know, do a cleanse.  Carol does them all the time, she swears by them.  Says they increase her energy."

Bones snorted.  "There is nothing about the Human body that requires cleansing.  It's all self-cleaning.  Just eat your fiber and lay off the gyros and you'll be fine, no need for these stupid fads."  He passed the PADD in his hand to Spock.  "Well, he's all yours.  I'm turning in.  Make sure he eats everything on that tray, no exceptions, no excuses."  

Spock scanned the report, waiting until Bones had stomped out of the room before turning an inquiring eyebrow in Jim's direction.

"If I may repeat the doctor's question..."

Jim looked down at the sheet covering his lap.  "It was...it was because of the buttsex."

"I do not understand."

"I wanted to be sure there wasn't any, you know...that you wouldn't, um, run into anything, any..."

Realization dawned.  

"Jim, as the normal function of the humanoid rectum is to store and eventually expel fecal matter, attempting to circumvent its function purely for sexual relations by depriving yourself of solid food for three days was pointless at best, and quite foolish at worst, as your present situation demonstrates."

Jim pouted just a little.  "But I don't want it to be disgusting.  I want it to be perfect."

"Perfection is an illusion.  I assure you, the prospect of coming into contact..."

"Don't say it, don't, I'm grossing out over this...!"

"...with the normal contents of your..."

" _LA LA LA I can't hear you LA LA LA LA LA...!_ "

"...would in no way discourage..."

" _GODDAMNIT I SAID LA LA LA LA SO SHUT THE FUCK UP LA LA LA!"_

Spock sighed and speared a limp piece of broccoli, then directed it toward his captain's now stubbornly closed mouth.

It was a long time before the tray was emptied according to the doctor's orders.

****

**_Act 2_ **

**_2260.79_ **

 

24 hours after being discharged from Sickbay, Jim invited Spock over to his cabin for a romantic evening revolving around their (rescheduled) inaugural anal encounter.  Spock entered to find his captain already lying on the bed, waggling his bare butt in Spock's general direction and giving him his best come-hither look.

"Come on, baby, get naked and give these honey buns some  _lovin_ '."

Spock was warmed by the endearing sight before him and the even more endearing enthusiasm expressed by his young lover.  But Spock being Spock means that there is always cause for concern, even (or especially) in the most idyllic of situations. 

He crossed the room to seat himself on the edge of the bed.  Jim purred beneath his hand as he thoughtfully petted the luscious skin before voicing his disquiet. 

"You will undoubtedly find the act uncomfortable without sufficient preparation."

"No, it should be fine.  I've read lots of fics where two guys just go at it with a little spit and pre-come for the slide.  Come on, let's go!"  Jim seized his hand and kissed it, the expression in his beautiful eyes both devilish and winsome.  Spock knew he could deny him nothing but tried anyway.

"Jim, please..."

"Spock, penetrate my ass  _now_.  That's an order."

Spock obeyed, moistening the tip of his index finger with his tongue and inserting it into his captain's butthole.  Jim froze, then squirmed with something that could be construed as pleasure, were they participating in sadomasochistic role-play.  Spock inferred otherwise and stopped.

"Is the sensation agreeable?"

Jim sighed.  "Not gonna lie, Spock, it actually burns like hell."

Spock sighed as well and withdrew his finger.  "So you agree that lubrication of some type is in order?"

A little crestfallen, Jim nodded.

They tried Jim's baby lotion ("I fail to understand why you have baby lotion on hand when you are clearly not an infant," Spock noted, and Jim just rolled his eyes, wondering what Vulcans use when they jack off), Spock's scented massage oil ( _"AAAAAAH IT BURNS OH GOD GET IT OUT GET IT OUT!!"_ ), and even replicated vegetable oil, the odor of which nauseated Jim so much that he wouldn't let Spock's oily hand or dick anywhere near him.  By the time they had exhausted the possibilities on hand, Spock had lost his hard-on and Jim's cabin smelled like a cross between a fast-food joint and a head shop.

"Let's sleep at your place tonight," suggested Jim.  "And let's save the buttsex for after we find some decent lube."

Spock readily agreed to both suggestions.

 

**_Act 3_ **

**_2260.80_ **

 

Spock held the small bottle up to his face.  "'Astrolube?'"

"Yeah, I stole it from Sickbay this afternoon."

"'Stole?'  You resorted to thievery?"

"Well, I sure as hell wasn't gonna ask Bones for sex lubricant.  It'd give him a heart attack."

They were sitting on the bed in Spock's quarters examining the purloined bottle of lube, Jim with a look of proud accomplishment and Spock with one of misgiving. 

"On the contrary, that is exactly what you should have done.  If you prefer, I will ask him directly myself."

"No, what, are you insane?  That's the last thing we need, Bones getting all weirded out by our, you know,  _relationship."_ The air-quotes again.

"Captain, there is no way of knowing if this will be suitable for our purpose.  Recall the massage oil..."

"Well, since we're reverting to rank,  _Commander_ , please notice the holo of two naked people on the bottle.  I think it's pretty clear what purpose it's supposed to serve."

"They could be engaged in any number of activities."

"Like what, nude wrestling?  An art study?  Streaking?"

"I admit the probability that they are involved in some non-sexual activity is low. Nevertheless I fail to understand why you do not wish to ask your ship's CMO for something of this nature."

"It's because he's  _Bones_ , not because he's my CMO.  There are some things you just don't share with your bro's."

"Perhaps you should."

 

***

 

Jim groaned in appreciation as Spock worked himself in and out of his body, the Astrolube apparently fulfilling its purpose admirably.

"Oh, ohhhhh...that's amazing, baby,  _wow_  I feel so full, oh my fucking  _god_..." 

Spock reasoned that it was time to elevate the extent of their activity.  "Do you feel prepared for more?"

Jim's voice, already thick with passion, now revealed a thread of confusion as well. "Wait -- more?  Why, how many dicks do you have?"

"Only the one, but it is not at present inserted into your rectum." 

"Then what the hell  _is_?"

"The smallest finger of my right hand."

"You're fucking me with your  _pinky_?"

"Affirmative."

Jim sputtered with indignation.  "Oh  _hell_  no, pull out and fuck me for real!"  

"Jim, I should caution you, it may be distinctly uncomfortable for you if you find my little finger to be a sufficient challenge."

"The hell with that,  _do it_!"

Spock sighed at his boyfriend's impetuousness and withdrew his finger, then positioned the head of his lubricated penis at the entrance to Jim's wagging rear.  He pushed in exactly 0.87 centimeters.

_"THE HELL!!!"_

Jim shot across the bed, rotating himself as he did so that his ass was thoroughly protected by sheets and pillow from what was apparently an overly aggressive onslaught.  He glared at Spock accusingly.

"What the  _fuck_ , man, what are you trying to do, fucking  _kill_  me?"

"On the contrary, I was attempting to perform the act you requested of me."

"With what, a fucking baseball bat?"

Spock held his erection in both palms to show that, in fact, he had nothing but a standard issue Vulcan penis on hand with which to screw his captain.

Jim's eyes were shiny with tears.  "That...that fucking  _hurt_.  A  _lot_."

Spock sighed again.  "Jim, we really should spend more time preparing you if we are to be successful in this endeavor.  A bit less impatience would reward both of us."

"Okay, point taken.  I need to be more relaxed next time."

"Next time...?"

"Yeah, there is no way in hell I'm letting you get near my ass again tonight."  As if to prove his point, Jim rolled away from Spock, his pillow firmly wedged between them, and clamped his eyes shut. 

"Very well."  Spock willed his erection to subside, and if he was just a bit grumpy on the inside, well, one could sympathize.

 

 

**_Act 4_ **

**_2260.82_ **

  

Spock was engaged in his evening meditation when door buzzer to his quarters sounded.  Without rising from the floor, he intoned, "Come."

'Not yet, but real soon," snickered Jim as he staggered into the cabin and flung himself onto the floor next to his love.  Spock's nose wrinkled at the reeking stench of the captain's breath.

"You are inebriated."  

"Fuck yeah!" crowed Jim as he snuggled into Spock's hip.  "Five shots of Romulan ale.  I am  _so_  fit-shaced it it'n even funny."

Spock concurred.

"I fail to understand why you have ingested so much alcohol tonight.  It is normally not your practice to deliberately incapacitate yourself the evening prior to a duty shift."

Jim's eyes were already closing, his voice muffled by Spock's robe.  "Because...cause...I need...uhh...need..."

Spock shook the captain's slack arm in an attempt to increase his lucidity.  "Need what, Jim?"

"...to be...relaxed..."  

"I should say you have achieved your goal."  Spock rose and lifted the pliant body in his arms.  Jim's head lolled against his chest as he smiled beatifically up at him.  

"Carryin' me to bed?  Thass so...romantic..."  Jim giggled as Spock dropped him onto his bunk.  "Don't forget the...umm...you know, the...uhh...whassit..."

Spock pulled Jim's boots off, then his pants, producing more giggling.

"Oh yeah, I know what _you_ want..."  Jim attempted to roll onto his stomach but made it only halfway, his limbs mysteriously entangling to disallow further movement.   He peered up expectantly as Spock divested himself of his robe and climbed into the bed next to him.

Jim's face was alight with boozy joy as his head flopped back onto Spock's pillow.  "Come 'n' get it, baby...I'm totally ready..."

Spock enfolded the cool body of his captain in his arms, pulling his head to nestle it under his chin and gently stroking the bright hair.  Jim sighed and relaxed into the embrace, kissing Spock's chest messily.  "I love you so much...Lezz do it, baby, come on...lezz...uhh..............."

"I think not."  

  

**_Act 5_ **

**_2260.96_ **

  

It had been a very trying few weeks.  Even Spock found himself fatigued.

The diplomatic mission had been difficult from the start.  Not only had the S'Otovi'i delegation requested exceptional housing conditions, requiring the double-bunking of all officers on board for the duration for their journey to the conference on Beter III, but they were also of a disposition that he would have characterized, were he at his most charitable, as "sensitive."

Bones, with his customary candor, called them a bunch of fucking pains in the ass.  

Jim had spent hours trying to charm them, then merely appease them when the charm failed.  At some point they decided that he was the only Human capable of seeing to their many needs and so kept him as a round-the-clock retainer.  The crew became reconciled to seeing their captain hustling trays of food, bedclothes, and various personal care items through the ship's corridors at all hours.  Not coincidentally, they may also have seen him nod off a few times in the chair on the voyage back away from the S'Otovi'i home world.

During which, by the way, the impulse engines experienced a catastrophic failure.  At least the S'Otovi'i weren't around anymore to complain about that (which they undoubtedly would have, had they still been on board, because it occupied all of the captain's off-duty time, which they had become accustomed to claiming as their own).

Spock noticed that Jim did not appear at lunch, nor at dinner, the day of the engine failure.  He cataloged the absences as deserving of further investigation, particularly if they signified another self-imposed fast.

He arrived at the captain's quarters at 20:42 and buzzed at the door.

The answer was muffled.  "Come."

Spock entered to find Jim lying on his bed in his undershirt and trousers, one arm over his eyes, depleted.

"Are you unwell?"

"No, just tired.  God, what a crap-ass day.  Week.  Two weeks.  Whatever.  Fuck.  My head is killing me and my back feels like it's one gigantic knot."

"Roll over and I will tend to you."

The captain complied, turning onto his stomach with a flop and a sigh.  Spock rested his hands briefly on his shoulder blades and sensed the nodes of tension that lay beneath the black undershirt; they would need a fair amount of attention to disperse.

"Jim, you should remove your shirt in order for me to be of optimal assistance."

No answer except for his hands crossing at the waist to tug at the shirt, pulling it up just past his head to expose his back, leaving his arms swathed in the black cotton.

Spock lowered himself onto the bed, straddling Jim's thighs and taking a moment to savor the sight of so much exposed flesh, then let his hands trail languidly over the broad plane of Jim's back.  He luxuriated in the feel of his skin, mapping the musculature beneath its smooth, pale surface to locate the various constrictions and applying gentle, even pressure when he uncovered them.  Below him, Jim sighed and burrowed his face further into his folded arms.

"Oh god, Spock, that feels so good."  

His voice was drowsy, his body already relaxing into the mattress as it yielded to his lover's touch.  Spock paused his ministrations for a moment to reach under Jim's hips to undo his trousers and pull them down along with his undershorts, then resumed the massage, his hands working on the lumbar spine tight for a moment before retreating downward to knead his gluteal muscles.  Jim groaned in appreciation.

"Would you like me to continue?"

"Uh-huh."

Spock reached for the bottle of Astrolube, squeezing it onto Jim's crack and working it into the twin globes of his ass.  His thumbs drifted toward the puckered opening as his fingers stroked and squeezed.  Jim started bucking his hips slightly, his breath coming in muffled gasps as the tip of one thumb slid easily into him, then the other, stretching him wider as they pushed farther inward.

"Oh god...please..."

Spock's voice was a whisper.  "Please, what?"

"Do it.  Now, baby, please, oh Jesus fuck, please."

A pause to undo his own trousers, then a slow push, and Spock was inside him.  They groaned together as Spock rocked into him, gently at first but with increasing momentum, Jim's gasps urging him on.  

His orgasm wrenched a surprised, strangled cry from him.  They lay together for a moment, panting, before Spock rolled off and let Jim turn onto his back, his arms still twisted in his undershirt.  He moved to pull it off, but Spock placed a restraining hand on his wrists.

"No."

"No?"

"Not until I have cleaned you."

"There's no way in hell I'm taking a shower right now," Jim protested.  

Spock's eyes darkened. "That is not what I meant," he said as he trailed kisses down the length of Jim's abdomen, past his straining erection to the come leaking out of his ass.

'Oh my god," breathed Jim as Spock's hot tongue started to lap at him, "we have  _got_  to have buttsex more often."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sorry for this bit of drivel, not in the least. No apologies. I had too much fun writing it.
> 
> Peace, Love, and Buttsex!!!!


End file.
